


Endeavors of Diplomacy

by Anonymous



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-03-20 11:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Arranged Marriage AU: in which Queen Comet isn't assassinated, Toffee decides to take a different tack, and Moon agrees to marry for peace.





	1. Chapter 1

At the time, Moon had been grateful to her mother for taking her aside before the decision was finalized and given her an out.

It had seemed like a more distant thing back then, this prospect of a diplomatic marriage. The conflicts between the Mewmans and Monsters had flared up and subsided in unbreakable cycles for years, and though Queen Comet had always managed to bring them back around to peace talks every time, it seemed any peace thus gained was temporary. 

But Moon had been taking on more responsibilities for years now, ever since her mother had passed on the wand. In the increasingly long absences as Comet traveled to neutral locations for talks, or to battlefields when the talks inevitably broke down, Moon had consistently been at Butterfly Castle taking on duties as the acting queen. And as the immensity of the job became clearer to her, Moon was beginning to fear she would never be as great a queen as her mother.

So it was on impulse that Moon immediately accepted her mother's solution to the conflict, though certainly queens were not supposed to be impulsive. But they were supposed to be decisive, and so that was how Moon reasoned it to herself once the second thoughts caught up with her.

Her mother had given a tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and kissed Moon's forehead.

"We must all do our part for peace, my dear," Comet said, "but I wish I didn't have to ask so much of you."

"It's not much at all," Moon said, with confidence that she didn't feel even at the time. "I know how important this is to you."

"It's important to the whole of Mewni," Comet assured. "But you are also important to me. You may take some time to think on it, if you wish."

"No," Moon said, shaking her head. "I've made up my mind."

Later, as her own decision sank in, and as she learned more about her prospective husband, she considered that maybe she ought not to have been quite so decisive. Perhaps part of her did not believe the treaty would even materialize, given how diplomacy would so frequently break down. But what Moon had not been keeping track of closely was the political situation on the Monsters' side, and the fact that there had been some minor upheaval as leadership was wrested from Archduke Batwin by a bright and ruthless Septarian general.

He was a more dangerous sort than the old archduke, according to Comet. He'd been leader of one of the rebel monster factions, and his grab at legitimacy had now given him the clout to consolidate a much larger powerbase than Batwin. What had once been a monster army divided by infighting and ideological fractures was now fully behind a single charismatic leader in the form of the new Archduke. The balance of power between the Mewmen and the monsters was tipped, ever so slightly, in favor of the monsters now.

For Queen Comet, however, this was not a problem, but an opportunity. Her own council was beginning to see the military course as doomed for failure, and were now beginning to make noises about diplomacy where before they had considered the endeavor a failure. And as for the monsters-- without the internal strife that had always undermined Archduke Batwin's attempts at brokering peace, now Comet only truly had to persuade the new  Septarian Archduke of the correct course of action, knowing that he would be able to make peace materialize the way his predecessor couldn't. Primarily, Moon gathered, because this Septarian general had been one of those undermining Batwin in the first place. But such were the vagaries of politics, apparently.

Moon did not know the details of all this until after she had committed to the decision, however, and perhaps even if she'd known, it would not have changed the outcome. Peace was closer than ever, and the alternative would not have worked out well at all for the Mewmans. In the abstract, Moon could resign herself to the notion that she was doing the right thing, and that her mother would not have allowed her to marry anyone truly awful, even for peace, and even for duty.

It was just, well... It did not occur to Moon that who she would be marrying would be Archduke himself. And once she learned this, she wished she did not know all the things she had learned about how he'd attained his title.

 

* * *

 

Her first glimpse of her betrothed was from a tower window as his party arrived to Butterfly Castle for the upcoming nuptials. Moon had not intended to creep, but she'd been passing through the hallway, and the window was overlooking the courtyard, and...

She didn't think she would identify him by look alone, but there was something about his presence that drew the eye. He held himself tall and graceful, and the other monsters deferred to him instinctively. She couldn't hear what they were saying from so far away--she twirled the wand in her hand as she considered a spell that might help her eavesdrop just a little--but she could see the body language of the other monsters, and how they gravitated around the Archduke with the kind of plain adoration that Moon had until not only seen Mewmans display towards Queen Comet.

An entire contingent of knights surrounded the group of monster, and yet the Archduke himself seemed perfectly at ease, hands folded behind his back and head held high. He had no armor, only a slick black outfit trimmed with red, and he had no weapons drawn, as if haughtiness alone could keep the Mewman knights at bay.

At one point, the Archduke's head swiveled around slowly, and tilted up precisely towards the window where Moon was watching, and under the sudden intensity of his amber gaze, Moon flinched and dashed away from the window, feeling inexplicably like she'd been caught.

It was silly. She was Princess, and this was her castle, and she was perfectly entitled to sit at any window in the place. She smothered down the sheepishness under a rising sense of self-righteousness, and returned to look at the window.

But the courtyard was empty now, and she felt a pang of disappointment she couldn't quite explain.

 

* * *

 

Moon broke into a dead run from the window all the way to the throne room after leaving the window, and had paused outside the door to smooth down her hair and make sure her dress didn't look disheveled. So she was poised as she was ever going to be when she entered the throne room, straight-backed and gliding across the marble tiles to take her seat by her mother's throne.

Queen Comet gave Moon a small smile, and returned her attention to the door again. Moon had arrived just before the Archduke and his party, who were just now being announced as they filed into the room.

The Archduke's eyes took in his surroundings with an aloof sort of interest, his gaze sliding over Moon as if she were no more interesting than the wall fixtures, and finally his gaze settled on the Queen. She rose from her throne to walk down the stairs and offer her hands in friendly greeting.

"It is an honor to have you here, Your Grace," Queen Comet said, turning her most brilliant smile on him as if to make up for the scowls of the assorted knights and nobles around the room.

The Archduke bowed, but only shallowly, as one monarch might to another, and not an inch more.

"Your Majesty," he drawled, his voice so dry it was almost impertinent.

A displeased muttering rose up around the throne room. For the assembled court, this bordered on insult to their beloved queen, and they took umbrage with the Archduke's attitude.

Moon was on her feet and descending the steps before she even knew what she was doing, but all she had at the moment was the certainty that she couldn't let her mother carry the brunt of this encounter by herself, and so she did not stop until she was at Queen Comet's side.

Now the Archduke's eyes settled on Moon, and in turn Moon tried not to dwell on the mental image of butterflies pinned to boards.

"Your Grace," she greeted, and dipped into a curtsy so book-perfect that her etiquette instructor would have wept.

"My daughter, Princess Moon Butterfly," Queen Comet introduced. "She has been looking forward to meeting you."

Moon had certainly not been, but now that she had no other choice, she was going to demonstrate what it meant to have manners.

"Of course," the Archduke said, his voice still dry. "We are all eager to see this treaty formalized."

Though he addressed Queen Comet, his gaze was still bearing down on Moon, who endured the scrutiny with her chin tilted up--partly to project a self-assurance she did not feel, and partly because the Archduke was so much taller than she was.

The Archduke stepped forward, in a smooth motion that made some of the Royal Guard twitch, but Moon stood rooted into place, even as he reached out and took her hand. The shock only came when the Archduke brought the hand up and then tilted his head forward to place a kiss upon it. He even did it correctly by court etiquette--pressing his mouth to the back of his own thumb on her knuckles, instead of directly on the hand--and Moon was ashamed to realize she had not expected as much from a Monster.

"I look forward to becoming better acquainted with you, Princess," the Archduke said, holding Moon's hand for just a beat longer before releasing her.

"I do as well, Your Grace," Moon managed, as heat rose to her cheeks.  

 

* * *

 

Moon did not understand.

The welcoming feast was going quite well, and faced with Queen Comet's mouth-watering confections, even the most intractable nobleman's brow smoothed out. And the Queen was in fine form as well, keeping the conversation flowing and away from touchy subjects, never mind that relations between monsters and Mewmans were such that every subject was a potential landmine.

The problem was the Archduke. Not for Queen Comet, evidently; despite his confrontational approach to dinner conversation, he was reasonable enough to allow the Queen to steer him away from any truly explosive subjects. He even complimented her on her skills as a chef, in-between doggedly arguing for monster rights. But he had scarcely even looked in Moon's direction since the feast started, which was quite an accomplishment, considering that they were sitting directly across from one another: Queen Comet was at the head of the table, with her daughter seated to her right, and her guest of honor to her left. 

In fact, since he had kissed her hand in the throne room, he did not seem to give Moon any more thought, and Moon would have probably tolerated this behavior if he'd been merely any other guest on a royal visit.

But it was as if his attention had lodged an ember in her chest, some burning curiosity that smoldered while neither breaking into proper flames, nor giving her peace. Some needling of pride deep inside her simply couldn't allow her to tolerate the easy way he had withdrawn his attention right after intriguing her.

So she shifted her focus away from him and her mother, and looked down the table, taking in the other guests. She caught River Johansen's eye, and he stopped giving the Archduke deathglares just long enough to give Moon an encouraging smile and thumbs up. Moon smiled back, charmed by River's support, even despite the situation. She'd only been picking at the food on her plate until then, but she felt her appetite coming back.

She lost it again when someone banged their fists on the table, making the cutlery rattle, and the conversation hush in waves. Some way's down the table, some minor nobleman--Lord Windongle was his name, or somesuch, Moon had never known the man to be distinguished in anything--rose from his chair, pushing it back with a screech that silenced anyone still speaking.

"This is a travesty," the man boomed, and already Queen Comet's countenance turned cool in the face of this outburst. "You'd sell off your own daughter to Monsters, for some cockamamie treaty that won't stand for a year before these creatures tear it up!" He gave a disgusted snarl towards the Monster side of the table, and was met with growls and yet more screeching chair legs as Monsters stood up, hackles raised. "At least when Eclipsa flounced off with one of these, it was by her own choice!"

The table rattled again, but this time it was because Moon had set her fists down on it.

Wide eyes from around the table turned towards her now. Dimly, distantly, through some haze of anger, a more analytical side of Moon noticed her mother looking at her as well, eyes cool and calculating; the Monster sitting by the Archduke making to rise up as well, before the Archduke put a hand on his shoulder to stop him; River already on his feet, red-faced and ready to fight on her behalf, even before he knew what side Moon would fall on.

"Lord Windongle, sit down!" Moon spoke, her voice ringing through the feast hall like the toll of a bell. The table fell silence, cowed by Moon's voice in a way they hadn't been by Lord Windongle.

"But, Princess Moon, you--" Lord Windongle started.

"No! You don't speak for me," Moon interrupted, drawing herself up with the utmost dignity. "You don't speak for my mother. You certainly don't speak for most of the table, who have convened here because they believe in something more substantive than threats and blustering. So I advise that you not speak at all, and save yourself and all of us a great deal of trouble."

Lord Windongle's face fell at this very public upbraiding, and he seemed genuinely stumped by the happenings. He looked around the table just then, took stock of the glowering Monster faces on one side, and the Mewmans desperately trying not to make eye contact with him on the other, and realized the polls did not come out in his favor.

He slid back down into his seat, mild as milk and just as pale, and didn't turn his nose up from his plate for the rest of the feast.

Moon sat herself back down primly, arranging her skirts with more care than necessary. Queen Comet had a small smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. Across from Moon, the Archduke was watching her once again. He swirled his goblet of wine, and then raised it slightly in her direction, as if in an unspoken toast. There was something speculative in his eyes now.

Moon only gave the briefest of nods, before stubbornly ignoring him for the rest of the feast. Two could play at that game.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few weeks leading up to the wedding were a flurry of preparations, and the responsibility for the wedding planning had been handed off to Moon while Queen Comet was busy finalizing the treaty and greeting the incoming royal guests who would be attending the wedding.

For Moon, this mostly meant being pulled in every direction, asked endless questions about the decor, the seating, the protocol--and thankfully her mother had taken charge of the menu, as she was wont to do, but this still left Moon to be chased down by servants over every minor decision to be made.

It wasn't that Moon minded, of course. It was her intent to make the event perfect, and if the castle servants were truly that incapable of taking initiative on anything, Moon knew it was her duty to pick up the slack.

But perhaps she should have taken a break at some point. Five minutes to breathe, by herself, without anyone asking her any questions. Probably in the nearest broom closet.

Because now she was staring incredulously as the wedding florist was asking her opinion about which flower arrangement to choose, and Moon found herself looking between two vases: one with an arrangement of roses with sprigs of lily of the valley, and another with swamp moss hanging artistically on dead twigs.

She looked back and forth between the two vases, and then gave a narrow-eyed glare to the florist, trying to discern if she was being pranked in some way, but the florist looked sincerely forlorn over the choice. It was genuinely hard for them to discern which of the two arrangements was the appropriate choice, despite the swamp moss having already attracted a swarm of fat horse flies. They were going on about their artistic integrity, and how the swamp moss called to their inner anguish.

As breaking points went, it was not one of Moon's more dignified, and while the incoherent shriek of frustration she made was completely justified and she would go to her grave believing that, she _did_ immediately regret hurling the wedding planning binder right through the window and out into the garden.

The florist watched in stunned silence as the Princess then turned on her heel and fled from the room.

"That-- um. That doesn't answer my question, though," the florist called out after Moon.

 

* * *

 

Moon felt decidedly subdued as she reached the garden, or at the very least less frustrated now that she was out in the open air and there was nobody tugging at her sleeve. Oh, there'd certainly been some who'd wanted to, but as she stormed through the halls of the castle, anyone who saw the look on her face quickly closed their mouth without saying anything and disappeared down a different corridor.

But now Moon had to pay the consequences for her bout of foolishness, and rummage through the bushes until she could find the wedding binder again. She'd worked too hard to let things fall apart at this point.

She walked down the wending pathways of the garden and along the castle wall, trying to mentally map out where the window had been and where the binder might have fallen. She was sure she found the right spot, but as she picked through the bushes, she couldn't find it, and she was beginning to worry.

"Were you looking for this?"

Moon squeaked in surprise and whirled around to be met with the Archduke's raised brow. He had the binder she was looking for in one hand, casually flipping through it without really looking at the pages.

"Yes!" Moon replied, a bit too loudly. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes, thank you."

She extended her hands, with the full expectation that he would pass her the binder and they would both be on their way, but the Archduke merely made a thoughtful hum, and stopped flipping the pages long enough to inspect the contents.

"Keeping you busy, I see," he remarked.

"The wedding? Yes, Your Grace," Moon replied, dropping her hands now that she realized he was going to keep her hostage with the binder for some time longer.

"I meant your mother," he said, perfectly mild.

Still, there was something in his voice that made Moon feel like he was implying something.

"It's a responsibility she has entrusted me with," Moon said dutifully. "And I fully intend to live up to her expectations."

"Yes, and I'm sure that you'd achieve any task she asked of you," he replied. "Which is all more the pity that she has you picking table settings while she's busy dealing with the actually important things, isn't it?"

Anger flared in Moon's chest at the Archduke's implications, and without waiting for permission, she snatched the binder from him.

"She's Queen," Moon replied, holding the binder against her chest like a shield. "And we all must do our part for peace."

"Mm," the Archduke made a dismissive gesture. "I'm not doing this for peace."

A chill ran down Moon's back as his words sank in, and her head snapped back as she looked at him incredulously. But the Archduke merely inspected his claws, looking downright bored.

"I'm doing this for Monsters to get the rights we deserve in Mewni. And if this is the means to that end, then," he shrugged, careless, "I'm willing to put up with condescending Mewman royals, and the pageantry that entails."

He looked down to Moon then, his gaze so very yellow from under his lids, almost glowing in the golden late-morning sunlight. It was compelling and terrifying, and Moon felt rooted in place by it, even despite the rising sense of danger in the back of her mind.

"I could, of course, merely wage war instead," he said, sounding completely casual in contrast to the content of his words, "exterminate every last Mewman until there's no one left to oppress Monster kind. It would be messy work, and oh, I'm sure you Mewmans would make it more difficult than it has to be. But as your mother cleverly pointed out," and here his face split into a grin, lips peeling back to reveal rows and rows of jagged teeth, more than Moon thought anyone should have, "if I'm willing to achieve my goals by any means necessary, then surely I'm willing to achieve them by peaceful means as well."

Moon's hand itched for her wand, but despite the undercurrent of threat to this conversation, the Archduke hadn't actually made any hostile move--or at least nothing to warrant an overreaction like that. Moon suspected that he was only trying to intimidate her, rattle her cage a little to see how she would react, and if that was so, then acting defensive was the wrong move.

So she squared her shoulders and set her jaw, and gathered herself to her full height in response.

"Whatever your reasoning," she said, biting off every word precisely, "as long as our goals are aligned, we can still be allies."

The Archduke's reptilian grin retracted into something softer, with fewer teeth showing, and he bowed his head slightly.

"Would you like to take a walk, Your Highness?" he asked, throwing Moon for a loop.

"I..." She looked to the garden around her, and then towards the castle. "I have much to do."

"You have things well under control, I'm sure," he said, taking one of her hands and placing it in the crook of her elbow. When he started walking, it was all Moon could do to follow, lest she trip on her own feet.

Wildly, she found herself wishing for a chaperone for the first time in her life, even though chaperones had been the bane of her existence when she'd first started dating River. But then, River hadn't been a Monster, for all his Johansen eccentricities. And the Archduke exuded a kind of aura of danger that Moon couldn't fully attribute _just_ to him being a Monster. It was something in the way he carried himself, always at ease like someone who knew he was the most dangerous thing in the room, no matter what room he walked into.

Still Moon followed along as he walked her along the garden path; when it was clear she was making an effort to keep up, her legs being much shorter than his, he even slowed down to a more manageable pace. 

She didn't know she was being taken somewhere until they'd already arrived, to a shadowed gazebo ringing with laughter. The moment he walked her up the stairs and into the gazebo, however, the laughter abruptly stopped, and Moon found herself surrounded by Monsters, staring at her with varied expressions of displeasure. They looked upon her as an intruder, she realized--in spite of the fact that these were the royal gardens and she had every right to be there.

"You all recognize Princess Moon, I trust," the Archduke drawled, looking over his assembled subjects.

They were a mix of different species, a grab bag of feathers and claws and fins, ranging in size and shape. They had been sprawled around the gazebo, gorging themselves on corn cobs, and by the sheepish way some of them were now trying to conceal the cobs, Moon guessed they had stolen the food from the kitchens. There was nothing to do about it now; she could hardly accuse the Archduke's people of theft right to the Archduke's face.

But the Monsters all straightened up, clambering to their feet and brushing off crumbs in an attempt at making themselves presentable, and their previous ease had so evaporated in Moon's presence that she felt a twinge of guilt over it. 

"Lovely to meet you all," Moon greeted, and everyone assembled seemed some stripe of surprised at the notion. "Are you enjoying the gardens?"

"'s the only place the guards won't crowd us," one of them said--another Septarian, though much taller than the Archduke.

Yes, Moon supposed the guards would keep a close eye on the Monsters, so she was barely surprised. Though apparently they weren't keeping a close enough eye, if the kitchens got raided anyway.

"The guards are only there to ensure your safety," she said, trying to sound reassuring.

"We can ensure our own safety," the Archduke snorted. "They're watching us for the peace of mind of your other, more respectable guests. The ones who are actually wanted here."

Heat rose to Moon's cheeks at his bluntness. She slipped her hand off his arm and pulled away half a step, just enough distance so she could look at him without craning her head too much.

"If you've done nothing wrong, you have no reason to be concerned about the guards," she gritted out.

There was more shuffling as the Monsters made another attempt at concealing half-eaten corncobs, but Moon's attention was solely on the Archduke, who regarded her with coldness in return.

"As far as your guards are concerned, Princess, we've done plenty wrong just by being Monsters," he said.

Moon had to bite her tongue before she shot off a decidedly impolitic reply.

"It wasn't so long ago that we were at war," Moon said instead, "and if the guards seem more cautious around you, that may well be the reason. Regardless, I must take my leave now, Your Grace. As I've said, I have much to do."

She turned around, more stiff than poised, and she did not run, but certainly walked briskly.

It was not until she walked through the nearest door and got waylaid by yet another servant badgering her with wedding planning questions that Moon wryly considered she might have had less of a headache staying in the garden and hashing out an entire argument with the Archduke. 

But no, blowing up at the groom right before the wedding might have been understandable of a stressed bride. It would not be behavior becoming of a princess. She buried herself in wedding preparations once again, and left any other thoughts to haunt her at night before she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't that she lent much credence to the Archduke's complaints; she knew the castle guards were exemplary, and dedicated to their jobs.

But once the thought had been planted in her head, she could not help but feel compelled to deal with this as well, despite all the things already on her plate. The guards had become background to Moon over the course of a childhood surrounded by them, little more than features of Butterfly Castle's architecture.

It was not as if she was sneaking through hallways, eavesdropping and spying. But if guards exchanged gossip, or if they acted in a particular way around a certain set of guests, and not another...

Moon probably would not have thought to wonder why the guards always seemed to be present everywhere the Monster guests were, or why they always seemed to brandish much larger weapons than usual, but now that she noticed, the inhospitable behavior seemed to jump at her. The sneering lack of civility contrasted wildly with the otherwise solicitous behavior towards the other guests. 

And if it had been only the guards, perhaps Moon could believe it was mere paranoia about security, but the servants were similarly hostile, though more passive aggressive about it. Moon walked past the guest suites one day to discover that while the Archduke had been secured a smaller room on the wing, the rest of the Monsters had been given rooms over the stables. She discovered this because a dour maid with a broom was telling one of the Monsters to go right back there.

Inevitably, pulling on one thread unraveled an entire string of issues that went beyond just the rooming arrangement. The meals served to Monsters were largely leftover, and apparently the only reason it wasn't also served in dog bowls was because the Queen had advised that serving it in plates would have a civilizing influence on the Monsters. The bedding they were given were the old, scratchy sheets that would have been cut for rags. Every mess in the castle was blamed on the Monsters somehow, even when no Monster could have been responsible. And any requests the Monsters did have from the servants was met with blunt refusal more often than not.

Moon could very well see why the Archduke would have such a hostile attitude if he thought his people were being slighted. In all honesty, Moon could understand why both the servants and the guards took some of the measures they did; rooming them over the stables was preferable to getting the guest rooms ruined beyond repair. Some of the Monsters were distinctively slimy, and even some who weren't had a very distinct... musk. And security alone was undoubtedly easier with the Monsters separated from some of the more respectable guests. Rationalizing it all away was quite easy once one got started.

But so close to the treaty being finalized, all Moon could think was that surely they could be given at least a modicum of special treatment, if only to smooth things over. At the very least it would play well to the Archduke, who was, in Moon's opinion, a difficult enough creature to deal with already.

She was going to regret giving herself yet more reasons to run around, but Moon resigned herself to the fact that some things simply needed to be done.

 

* * *

 

That was why the Captain of the Guard walked into the barracks one day to find Princess Moon idly inspecting an old wanted poster of the Archduke that someone had set on the wall for target practice. It was an old one, identifying him only as a Septarian general whose head would fetch high reward for any soldier who dared take him on. Several daggers were sticking out of the poster, and by the ragged state of the paper, Moon could see it got a lot of use.

"Is this not sending something of a contrary message, Captain?" Moon asked, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she considered the poster.

"Er, Your Highness?" the Captain asked, eyes darting between the princess and the poster.

"Your job is to keep the Archduke alive," Moon clarified. "Preferably in one piece. And lacking any extra holes." She gestured to the poster. "I hope nobody gets their wires cross about how that is to be accomplished."

To her credit, the Captain of the Guard had the dignity to look sheepish.

"I'll have them take it down, Your Highness," the Captain said, grabbing one of the daggers and tugging it out of the wall.

"And those as well," Moon said, gesturing to the practice dummies made up in the rough shape of Monsters. Crude snarls were painted on the buckets serving as heads, and other than the humanoid shape, various animal features had been attached to them: brooms serving as wings, stuffed sacks for tails, bare corncobs as horns.

"Oh, but it's traditional--" the Captain began.

Moon raised her hand to beckon silence.

"Captain, the Archduke will be Prince-Consort in a week, and King of Mewni when I ascend to the throne. He will be spending ample time around this castle, so I would strongly suggest that you dispose now of anything you wouldn't want to explain to him later."

Though visibly begrudging, the Captain gave a tight nod.

"Your Highness," the Captain said just before Moon walked out the door again, "with all due respect, this is small pickings compared to what'll go down when Mina Loveberry returns--"

"--and I will deal with one crisis at a time," Moon said, with more confidence than she felt.

 

* * *

 

It would not be the last time the Captain of the Guard had a drop-in visit from the Princess, though not always necessarily about the Monsters, either.

But given that Moon was coming to lodge her complaints anyway, the Captain did not hesitate to pass on her own. And while Moon could reprimand the Captain for any wayward behavior on the guards' part, and the castle Steward for anything the servants did, she found herself faced with the responsibility of having to, in turn, field any complaints the guards and castle staff had about the Monster guests.

Which was to say, Moon found herself having to track down the Archduke and actually speak to him, despite the fact that she had been hoping to delay any face to face encounter until the rapidly approaching wedding rehearsal. 

He was not in the gardens this time. She had tracked down his entourage, who had greeted her with marginally more enthusiasm. Having grown shameless in their larceny, the Monsters did not even attempt to hide their ill-gotten corn this time. They were, however, quite helpful in telling her where the Archduke spent most of his time, and she went there without wasting any time.

It was one of the less-used rooms, small enough that Moon thought of it as cozy despite the fact that it could fit several Mewman huts inside. But the ever-diligent housekeeping staff kept it in excellent condition, all surfaces dusted and polished to a shine. One wall of the room was taken up by a bookcase, offering light reading. A spinet and several other smaller musical instruments occupied another corner of the room. And under the large, airy windows, a drawing desk and a reading chair were arranged, to take best advantage of the natural light pouring in.

That was where she found the Archduke, occupying the armchair as if it was his throne, legs crossed and an open book in his hand. As Moon advanced into the room, he raised his eyes from the page only briefly to acknowledge her presence.

"Princess," he said by way of greeting, and did not stand up. His irreverence was something she was growing used to, but it still needled Moon.

"Your Grace," she returned his greeting. She stopped in the middle of the room, taking in her surroundings as she thought of how to proceed.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" the Archduke asked, his voice as dry as the sound of the page he turned.

"If you would be so kind, I have a matter I wish to discuss," Moon said.

The Archduke nodded, and then closed the book, setting it down on the windowsill as he stood up. He smoothed down his shirt, and clasped his hands behind his back as he advanced towards her. It was a cheap trick, using his height against her like that. She only reached his collarbone, and had to tilt her head back to look him in the face, and there was no way this wasn't on purpose. He stopped a few paces away, and nodded for her to continue.

Moon cleared her throat, and found herself unconsciously mirroring him as she put her own hands behind her back; though in truth that was to hide the nervous fidgeting of her fingers.

"First of all, I owe you an apology for how we parted last time we spoke," she said.

The only sign of his surprise was a slight raising of his eyebrows, but Moon still caught it, and got an unexpected thrill from it.

"I accept the apology," he said, magnanimous, "though only because I suspect you're behind the change in the guards' behavior."

"Ah... yes," Moon confirmed, "we had some talks. You... If you're to be my husband, then they should treat you as such, and not like a..."

"Petty criminal?" the Archduke suggested as Moon floundered for words.

"Enemy," Moon said quietly, not liking the bitterness of the word in her mouth. Because the Archduke had been the enemy, and Moon was starting to fear it was too soon for some people to accept that he was not anymore. "You're not the enemy, and neither are your people anymore. If we're to make this work, I acknowledge we may have some difficulties we must deal with on the way."

"You acknowledge," he echoed, giving one of his inscrutable looks. He raised a hand and gently grabbed Moon's chin, his amber gaze boring into her as though he might see straight to the bottom of her soul. "Tell me, then, what do you think will become of Mewni once we're married?"

Was this some sort of test?

"Then... our people will be united," she said. 

"Mewmans and Monsters living in harmony, equal in standing?" he asked, voice almost mocking.

"Yes," Moon said, frowning. "Why else would you be here?"

"And does your mother believe the same?"

"Of course she does, this is her plan to begin with," Moon said.

"Is it?" the Archduke asked. "How would you know, when she keeps you at arm's length from anything important? You weren't at the talks. You weren't at the negotiations. You were keeping house for her while she went off to make a glorious name for herself."

Moon brushed off his hand like it was burning, suddenly annoyed at him. Was he going to turn every conversation into a confrontation?

"How dare you," she said, all but shaking with indignation. "She's Queen. And I have a lot more to learn. Why would it be any of my concern what she does or doesn't tell me?"

"Because you'll be Queen one day," he replied, "and the only way you'll have the peace you want so badly is if you're a different kind of Queen from the ones who came before."

"My mother--"

"--Is treating you like a child," the Archduke interrupted. "And you let her because you idolize her."

Moon crossed her arms, incensed but unable to disagree when the Archduke spoke so plainly the frustrations she had always kept tight to her chest. But with one vicious barb, he'd popped the bubble, and let all of her misgivings burst to the surface, raw and uncomfortable.

"She's my mother," Moon said, quiet and aching, unable to explain beyond that. How could anyone resent Comet Butterfly? She was a kind and generous soul, and she had always been a doting mother, if a bit overprotective. She knew the Archduke had a different view of Comet given their past conflicts, but Moon couldn't help but take the slight against her mother personally, no matter how much truth might hypothetically be in his words.

"I won't claim to understand," the Archduke said, not unkindly. "But one day you may need to make up your own mind, and go further than your mother did in order to accomplish your goals, even if it's by doing something against her wishes."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Moon said, confused by his words, and now annoyed about it.

His hand rose to brush against the line of her jaw--not holding her chin again, but sliding against her skin until his palm was cradling her cheek. His skin was scaly and dry, and smoother than Moon expected. A thumb passed over the mark on her cheek, though the claw did not touch her skin. She looked up at him, not quite understanding his game.

"It means," the Archduke said, "that I put more faith in you for the future than I do in your mother. Don't disappoint me, Moon."

Moon blinked as his hand slid away from her cheek again, and without the point of contact, she felt strangely unmoored. She didn't understand--she would have wanted to be indignant on her mother's behalf again, which would have at least been a safer thing to feel, but instead she was turning over his words in her head wondering what he meant by putting his faith in her. It felt like a concession on his part, even if she did not fully grasp what previous position he was conceding from. 

"I didn't say you could call me Moon," she pointed out just to be contrary. At least when they argued she knew where they stood.

"No? Well, you can call me Toffee," he said, shrugging.

"Goodness, why would I do that?" she asked.

"Because it's my name," he said, with just a tinge of exasperation.

In spite of herself, Moon pressed a hand to her lips, hiding the smile that threatened to break across her face.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to talk about?" Toffee asked.

"Ah! Yes, well. It concerns the kitchen staff," Moon said, remembering her original purpose in tracking down the Archduke. "I really must insist, if your people want food, they can just ask for it. I'm afraid the constant raids have been stressing the already overburdened cooks."

Toffee stared at Moon for a beat too long.

"You really don't know what's happening, do you?" he asked at length.

"I know what the kitchen staff has told me," Moon replied, peevishly. If this was going to turn into another lecture on Monster rights--

"I suppose they neglected to mention that whenever a Monster goes to ask, the kitchen staff tends to scream and run away before anyone can get a word in edgewise."

"...What?"

"It works out, I suppose," Toffee shrugged, trying to look careless even though his voice edged into sardonic, "since when they run away they also tend to drop whatever they were holding."

"Oh, stop," Moon said, and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, feeling the throb of an impending headache. "Of course they do," she muttered to herself. "I should have guessed it was some nonsense like--" She shook her head, and gave Toffee an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I'll have a talk with the staff."

"I'm sure you will," Toffee said dryly.

"Though perhaps," Moon continued, as an idea occurred to her, "it would be best to have one of your people along. Someone to introduce to the staff and make them see there's nothing to fear?"

She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a smile curl around the corner of Toffee's mouth. But then he tilted his head to one side, and it was gone before she could make sure.

"I'll send Rasticore with you," Toffee offered.

"Rasticore! And he's one of your less intimidating--"

"He's my fiercest Septarian warrior. Scourge of the battlefield. He's ripped more Mewmans limb from limb than anyone you'll ever meet."

Moon felt her mouth go dry.

"Ah," was her only response, a shocked little sound.

Toffee raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, it's just-- by your description, isn't Rasticore a bit too--" She waved her hands vaguely as she tried to find some tactful way of phrasing her issue with him.

"Too...?"

"--utterly terrifying? For this kind of thing?" she finally blurted out.

"Oh, yes, they'll find him quite intimidating," Toffee confirmed, looking pleased about the notion. "But if you can convince the kitchen staff not to be afraid of Rasticore, they'll have a much easier time with the rest."

Moon let out a long breath as she understood Toffee's reasoning. 

"You're never going to make things easier for me, are you?" she asked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Toffee replied with utmost dignity.


	4. Chapter 4

It would have been inaccurate to say the rest of the week passed in a blur. It very much did not, though at times Moon sorely wished it would. But preparations did come to an end, and any problem they might not have anticipated before, they managed to identify at the wedding rehearsal.

That was how Moon discovered the Monsters were more familiar with royal wedding protocol and etiquette than she would have suspected. As prepared as she was to hold a crash course and close the gap, she found them to be well-behaved, if not as self-possessed as some of the other guests.

She returned to the drawing room that she knew Toffee liked to haunt, and finding it completely absent of its usual occupant, she went up to the book still placed on a windowsill, and discovered it was Mrs Maladroit's Book of Courtly Manners--a hefty volume that Moon mostly remembered for being the book her etiquette tutors had her carry on her head when she was practicing her posture. The chapter on weddings was bookmarked.

She sat down in the armchair by the window then, with the book in her lap, and she stared at the cover and its gilded, looping letters. She thought, strangely enough, of how her mother had always ruled alone, and how that had not prepared Moon for knowing how a king fit into the picture. When she'd imagined her future rule, Moon had rarely thought of anyone beside her, except as a vague figure in the background. More accessory than partner, like a crown or a scepter. Even when she had been dating River, she could never quite make the image of him as a king fit, perhaps because River was more prone to ripping his shirt off and wrestling dangerous beasts, neither one being pursuits which Moon thought of as very kingly.

But now she would have a husband, which was an entirely different thing from having an on-again off-again boyfriend, and she couldn't very well reconcile the vague image of a passive consort that she had always fostered with the reality of the Monster she was about to marry; someone who could take the initiative, and make her life easier, if only by a bit. But also someone who could do otherwise, if he so chose. If she made him choose.

She did not know this was something she would have to concern herself with--perhaps she'd assumed her marriage and her rule would be more separate than this--but suddenly she came the realization that she'd be ceding large tracts of her life to another person, and did not entirely know how to feel about that.

She rose from the chair and left the book on the windowsill, where she'd found it, and went off to find someone who might help her sort out her thoughts.

Moon found River out by one of the training yards. He was not training, however, but apparently taking advantage of the lack of supervision to share a flask with Prince Spiderbite and Prince Ponyhead. Well, Moon wouldn't have known where to find him if she didn't already know where the princely set was hanging out when avoiding their parents. She did suspect that Ponyhead and Spiderbite were something of a bad influence on River, which was a difficult thing to articulate when she'd seen River wrestle mud beasts while dressed in nothing but a leaf loincloth.

River was halfway through taking a swig when he spotted her and aborted the drink, sputtering into coughs as he pressed the flask back onto Prince Ponyhead.

"Weak, Johansen," Ponyhead boomed, manipulating the flask with magic to take a swig of his own.

River hissed and elbowed his companions. Prince Spiderbite, in the midst of scratching one of the angry red pustules on his face, only just then noticed Moon's presence and stopped scratching to wave weakly. Ponyhead noticed as well, but did not acknowledge it in any way, busy as he was on the road to getting completely sloshed.

"Princess Moon!" River blurted. "What, uh... what're you doing... here... in your own... training yarrrd?" He looked to his other two companions for rescue, but neither looked all that ready to help smooth over the awkwardness.

"River, I was wondering if you had time to talk," she said.

"Ooooooh," Ponyhead and Spiderbite simultaneously said, before Moon gave them a sharp look that had them look away and pretend they hadn't been doing anything at all.

River stiffened, on the other hand, going red in the face.

"Err-- is that-- appropriate? Before your wedding, I mean--" River started.

"What precisely do you think this conversation is going to be about?" Moon asked, looking perfectly dismayed by any untoward implication. River turned even redder, while Ponyhead and Spiderbite winced guiltily. "Just come along, River, I have much to do, and I would prefer to finish my checklist quickly." She turned gracefully and flounced off with a remarkably regal swish of her skirts. 

"R-right away," River said, and hurried along after Moon.

Moon wasn't sure where she was going, which was how she ended up taking River down random hallways. But she walked with purpose, so River followed quietly along.

When she looked around and made sure there was nobody around to see them, Moon grabbed River and pulled him into the nearest closet.

River looked utterly confused as he was pushed against the shelves of cleaning products, and for a moment even seemed panicked, as if he suddenly faced the prospect of having to turn down a woman on the eve of her wedding and wasn't sure he had the wherewithal to actually do it.

"River," Moon said quickly, "what am I doing?"

River blinked, brows pulling down uncertainly into a frown.

"Doing here, in this closet?" he asked.

"No, with the wedding!" Moon upturned a bucket to use as a stool, and sat down, clutching at her hair utterly distraught. "I'm not ready to get married! I never should have agreed to this! I was a terrible girlfriend, what do I know about being a wife?"

"Moonpi-- Iiiiii mean, Princess Moon," River stammered a bit, covering for how easily he'd almost slipped into his nickname for her, and looked around the closet as though the stain remover might have useful advice.

Well, there was Aunt Agony's Removal With Great Prejudice on the shelf right by River's shoulder, and as he flailed about for a response, he picked it up. But the advice from Aunt Agony that was inscribed next to the ingredient list consisted mostly of a very pointed observation about how this cleaning product tasted just like raspberries when baked into pastries, and a man who left a mess might not tell the difference until he was already dead. Aunt Agony believed in removing stains at their cause.

River put the stain remover right back onto the shelf, grimacing.

"Moon," he began again, putting his hands on her shoulders, "you're the bravest woman I know, and the smartest, and-- and you were not a terrible girlfriend," he swallowed before he continued, "you just had a lot of responsibilities that mattered more. But I know you can figure out anything you put your mind to, and-- and even if you don't, and this Archduke gives you guff about it, you can call on me and I'll pound him!"

He waved a fist in the air, trying to look threatening. Considering he was just as tall as she was sitting down, and his face had peach fuzz because he couldn't grow any proper facial hair yet, he should have struck a humorous image. But River looked so utterly sincere and intent on his words, that Moon felt a rising wave of affection for him.

Bless River and his unconditional faith in her, but Moon actually felt braver for having him in her corner. 

"I mean," River continued, flushing, "as a friend. You can call me as a friend. That's... that's a thing friends do, right?"

"It is most definitely a thing friends do," Moon agreed, a bit misty-eyed, and leaned in for a hug,

She was always a bit awkward about this kind of thing--Butterflies did not hug--but River was warm and held her tight, squeezing until he was sure she knew he meant it.

 

* * *

 

 

Talking to River had helped Moon enough that she was willing to dismiss her misgivings as wedding jitters, and perhaps that truly was what they were, because the next time she felt a similar sort of apprehension was as she was sitting in front of her vanity mirror, on her wedding day.

Quick-handed servants were styling her hair, pulling the silver tresses into an elaborate up-do. Possibly hundreds of little bobby pins were invisibly doing their part in keeping the hair into its shape, and the royal hairdresser was busy working strands of pearls across Moon's hair. Other than obey the occasional instruction to turn her head one way or the other, Moon had little else to do other than stare at her own reflection and ruminate.

Moon didn't often wear her hair in elaborate shapes, save for certain official functions, and she'd never considered it before, but with her hair pulled up, she looked older. She looked... a lot like her mother. Enough so that she began understanding why elder courtiers would pinch her cheeks and say how she was Comet's spitting image. It had seemed absurd to Moon until just now, when she was staring at the image of herself as a future Queen.

The servants were tittering nervously around her, exchanging gossip about various wedding guests while very pointedly not mentioning the groom, but Moon let their words wash over her.  It was only when the chatter suddenly stopped that she took notice, and saw her mother in the reflection of the mirror, standing by the door with a hand on the doorframe and an unreadable smile on her lips.

"My goodness, Moon, you look beautiful," the Queen said, approaching to inspect the wonderful work the royal hairdresser had done. "Please, may I have a word with my daughter?" she addressed the servants.

They exchanged worried looks, because they still had to squeeze Moon into the elaborate wedding dress waiting on a nearby dress form, but they bowed and exited the room gracefully anyway.

Moon watched them all shuffle out in silence, and for a few moments after the door closed behind them, the silence stretched on still between Moon and her mother.

Then Comet moved to join Moon by the vanity, and they both turned to look at the reflection. Moon's hair was done, but Comet adjusted the pearl strands in Moon's hair just so, making sure they were arranged to draw the eye to the circlet that Moon was also wearing.

"I know that, despite your lack of complaining, I am asking a lot of you," Comet began, still smiling proudly as she patted Moon'c coiffure carefully.

"Mother, we've been over this already," Moon said. "Trust me, I can make this work. You don't have to worry."

"I know, I know," Comet sighed. "You've been wonderful, of course. I appreciate everything you've been doing to help my treaty succeed. But one day, you'll be Queen in your own right, and you'll protect the kingdom in your own way."

Moon was momentarily warmed by her mother's words, but as they sunk in, she realized there was a note of cynicism to them, like a bad aftertaste. Who did she think Moon would be protecting the kingdom against, if the Monsters would by then be her subjects? Moon didn't get to ask, because by then her mother had gently kissed her forehead, stopping any such thoughts.

"I will see you at the ceremony," Comet promised, and departed.

 

* * *

 

 

For all the time Moon spent agonizing about the wedding, the event itself seemed to pass much too quickly. Her dress, thick with more layers than an onion, and adorned with pearls and delicate silk roses, was so heavy, that Moon used a spell to lighten it. She decided this was most certainly a responsible use for magic, because otherwise she might have toppled over before they even got to cutting the cake.

The Archduke was not as encumbered as Moon by his wedding clothes. No, he instead looked very sleek in a black suit, impeccably tailored to flatter the lithe lines of his body. He had a deep purple cravat, so dark it was nearly black, and a single ruby cravat pin, the gemstone catching the light like a drop of blood.

Moon had to admit he cut quite the figure, and though this was not an aspect of the wedding preparations that had fallen to her, the groom's attire was more than adequate to the occasion. She had the opportunity to look him over as they faced each other during the marriage ceremony proper, and he must have noticed, because a smile curled around one side of his face--the side turned away from the rest of the room, as though this was a secret between the two of them--and Moon found herself looking down to her bouquet instead, staring hopelessly into the petals of the white chrysanthemums and blue irises that matched the white and blue of her dress as though they could provide her with a balm for the rising heat in her face.

Queen Comet officiated the marriage, looking the very image of the poised and serene ruler as she spoke to the assembled guests, and Moon tried her best to emulate this posture. She was so focused on not making a fool of herself, that Moon barely noticed the ceremony slipping her by, until it was time to say 'I do', and by that point, the entire experience had gained a slight aura of surrealism for her.

She was not startled when Toffee leaned in to kiss her--it was barely a peck on the lips--but she _was_   taken by surprise when the crowd burst into polite applause on the Mewni side, and almost spitefully loud cheering on the Monster side.

And just like that, Moon found herself married.


	5. Chapter 5

After the marriage ceremony came, quite naturally, the feasting and dancing, all at the scale one might expect of a royal wedding.

The grand banquet hall was festooned with more flowers than the gardens just outside, and as evening began encroaching, lanterns poured out a steady golden glow over the proceedings. The guests made delighted noises and polite compliments, all of which Moon caught in snatches and barely paid attention to, despite all the effort and worry she had invested into eliciting that very reaction.

The sense of surreal that had fallen over Moon during the marriage ceremony had left her entirely just in time for the first dance--meant for the bride and groom, of course--and she became all too aware of all the eyes focused on her now.

Toffee, on the other hand, seemed completely unconcerned with any of the attention, so regally aloof that the attending guests might as well not exist. He offered his hand to Moon in invitation, and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

They had been meant to dance at the wedding rehearsal, but they'd not quite gotten around to it at the time. Toffee had merely dryly informed Moon that he knew how to dance--not specifying where he'd ever learned something like that--and Moon had been forced to move on to other things.

It was not that she didn't believe him. He seemed to have an uncanny ability for knowing what he needed, just as the need arose, and she didn't question it when it benefited her.

But knowing something, or even being sure of something, was different from experiencing it first hand. 

He took one hand gently into hers, and placed his other against her side, and as the music picked up in a stately waltz, they began an easy glide across the dance floor that came more naturally than Moon expected. 

It was not the first time she'd ever danced with someone at a function; but this didn't feel like the Silver Bell Ball or one of her mother's banquets. There'd always been something rote about Moon's dancing--something stiff, her old dance instructor would say--like Moon was going through the steps in her head and trying not to look at her feet, which was indeed what Moon was focused on. And it was not like dancing in private either--the way River would twirl her after balls, when they were alone and the band had stopped playing.

Toffee made it easy to follow his lead, in more ways than one. His expression was unconcerned, as though he was not the least bit interested in anyone's opinion, and for Moon, who often felt the eyes of an entire kingdom holding her to standards, there was something liberating to that notion. She enjoyed it vicariously. She could feel the pull that Toffee had over other Monsters, and wondered when she'd fallen into its snare as well.

The music swelled for one last pass, and with an unexpected twirl, Moon felt the flare of her skirts, revealing the lacy hems of petticoats that had the crowd 'ooh' in response. Her heart skipped in her chest, just as surprised as the spectators, and then, as the song petered off into a single long note, and she was brought to a stop, she realized that she was breathing much harder than could be accounted for by exertion.

Toffee politely bowed; Moon bowed back. 

She would have to remember that little stunt. Heseemed the type to enjoy surprising her.

 

* * *

 

As the food was served, and the wedding party tucked in with great pleasure, Moon finally felt as though she had regained her footing somewhat. Poised as ever, she looked over the room from her high table and found herself satisfied with how everything was proceeding.

Given that nothing was actively in need of her intervention then, her attention shifted to Toffee sitting by her side. He was poking at his food like it was a vivisected specimen; it was hard to tell if he was actually enjoying it.

"Well," Moon said, "I thought that went rather well."

"Mm. I suppose it did," Toffee said agreeably, "especially since I noticed the Queen took out the part of the ceremony where she asked if there were any objections."

Had she? Moon couldn't remember, and she wished she'd been paying closer attention now.

"If she did, I'm sure it was because we didn't have time to sit through the lists of innumerable objections everyone was going to produce," Moon replied.

Toffee gave a dry huff of laughter at that, apparently surprising himself. He looked sidelong to Moon, again with that strange curl to his lips that was a smile when viewed from the right angle.

"The hardest part is still to come, anyway," Toffee said. "Unless the Queen finds other things to distract you with."

"How do you mean?" Moon asked, again feeling that tinge of annoyance that he always seemed to induce in her when he mentioned her mother. She wished their conversations didn't always come around to her eventually.

"I'm only curious," Toffee said, "about how involved you plan to be with the leadership of Mewni now that your mother isn't always away."

"I will be Queen eventually."

"And until then?" Toffee asked. "Content to be the obedient Princess? Smiling for the masses? Clinging to your mother's shadow?"

"I--" Moon considered a series of responses, and discarded them all in kind. "You must realize you change my plans now."

"Oh?" Toffee couldn't hide the sudden spike in interest her words provoked. "Do tell, Princess."

"Whatever I planned to do before, when it was only Mother and me, and only Mewman subjects to care for, matters very little now that the situation has changed," Moon continued. "Obviously Mewni must integrate its new citizens accordingly, and..." She faltered for a bit on the phrasing. "...and adjust to your new role."

"Hm." Toffee stabbed with a fork at his food, and took a generous bite, chewing on it as he lapsed into thoughtful silence. It looked like he was ruminating on Moon's words more than the meal.

Moon took the opportunity to pay some attention to her own food, but she had vanishingly little appetite, given how tightly she was laced into her ridiculous dress. She nibbled on some cornbread.

"What is it that royal couples do?" Toffee asked suddenly.

"Do?" Moon repeated, not quite catching his meaning.

"When not attending to all those tedious royal responsibilities. What do they do for their own amusement? Other than hunt Monsters for fun."

"Why are you asking, precisely?" she said, trying not to sound suspicious.

"Let's say I'd prefer we weren't always stuck in this castle," Toffee said, gesturing vaguely to the room around them.

"You mean like. A date?" Moon said, feeling heat rise to her face. She tried her best to act nonchalant, but she probably only managed 'not very awkward'.

"I do realize we'd be doing things in the wrong order," Toffee said, with a put-upon sigh, "but yes, a date."

"Oh," Moon said. "Oh! Um." She thought about past dates, and even past escapades with her peers, but somehow all of the examples that immediately rose to mind seemed far too juvenile to state out loud now. "I suppose it-- it varies? Between couples? And their personal interests? What is it that you enjoy doing, for example?"

Toffee regarded her for a moment, silently weighing something in his mind, before he broke into a smile.

"I'll figure it out," he said, like a promise.

"Figure what out?" Moon asked.

But he only smiled, and didn't answer the question.

 

* * *

 

As the night went on, the dance floor began seeing more use, especially after the guests had had time to indulge on some of the provided wine. The music alternated between dizzying jigs and slow dances, swelling and ebbing through a variety of songs and styles.

The Monsters, who knew just enough of dancing to not turn the night into a scandal, hovered at the edges nervously before the first of them had the courage to go forth and actually make small talk with the nearest Mewmans. Moon watched with carefully disguised interest, and without being able to hear much, how an amphibious young woman talked to a skinny Mewman with bad complexion, and then with greater fascination as the two proceeded to the dance floor.

Throughout the night, Moon also found herself being asked to dance, to her surprise. At first it was River, who seemed to sweat a bit under Toffee's level gaze, but he set his jaw and asked Moon to the dance floor anyway. They spun together in a lively dance, and after that Moon returned to her seat, sending Toffee a chiding look.

"You didn't have to glare at him, you know," she said, because she hadn't had the opportunity before, in River's already stressed presence. "One _does_ dance at weddings."

"I wasn't glaring," Toffee replied dryly. "He was just very nervous for someone only asking for a dance."

"Of course he was nervous, he's my ex-boyfriend," Moon replied. "He probably thinks you're going to have him assassinated now."

"Why, was he a bad boyfriend?" Toffee asked glibly.

"No! He was--" Moon huffed, annoyed. "He's still a friend, I'll have you know. I do have friends. I hope that's not a problem."

Before Toffee could reply, their table was approached once again, and Moon was once more asked to dance, this time by one of the Monsters, possessed of four legs and still remarkably agile on the dance floor. And then, just as she finished that dance, she didn't get the opportunity to even return to her seat before she was asked again. And then again.

Moon would have considered this an unusual blip in popularity, except most of the ones asking her were familiar: heirs to other kingdoms, ones she'd danced with at the Silver Bell Ball for years on end. Moon didn't think she'd left much of an impression on account of her dancing skills alone, but now that she was married, she wouldn't be expected to attend that particular ball anymore. Traditionally, it was for unwed heirs.

She was already feeling a pang of nostalgia when another dance came to an end, and she turned around fully expecting another invitation.

What she did not expect was for the hand extended to her to be Toffee's.

"May I?" he asked. Then, apparently not able to contain himself, added, "If your dance card isn't completely full, that is."

Moon didn't know if his snide little aside was meant to annoy her, put it made her smother down a wave of laughter instead, as she took his hand.

This was their second dance of the night, less obligation this time, but certainly not their last before the feast was over.

 

* * *

 

The feast stretched on until morning, long hours of eating and dancing under twinkling lanterns. By the time the high windows of the castle had turned from velvet-black to a washed-out gray gradient, the energy of the feast had changed, if not the mood.

Moon felt stuffed on all the food she'd nibbled on throughout the night, her feet were sore, and her neck ached from lack of sleep, so she did not feel so much guilt from attempting to sneak out to bed. She did say her good night to her mother, who was lounging with a half-empty glass of champagne and giggling erratically. Queen Comet waved Moon off, promising to wrap things up herself.

Toffee was already waiting by the exit as Moon made her way to it, and wordlessly offered his arm, which Moon took without question. She appreciated it, in all honestly.

After the long night, even with the spell making her dress lighter, Moon still felt completely exhausted at having to drag the garment around. Her hair, which had been pinned up elegantly, now sagged and tilted unevenly, disheveled by all the dancing she had done. As she passed by decorative mirrors in the hallway, Moon patted down loose hairs, but the up-do was hopelessly wrecked, like a cake that someone had sat on. The string of pearls across it had broken at some point, and the pearls themselves had scattered across the floor. It was a wasted effort to fix it at this point, and anyway, she was going to have to take the whole thing down before bed.

As she gave a sidelong look to Toffee, she noted with some irritation that he looked far more put together than she did. Perhaps his hair was slightly messier, and his cravat was looser, but the ruby pin was still in its precise position at Toffee's throat.

Belatedly, Moon recognized the corridors they were taking.

"Are you... walking me to my room?" she asked, trying not to sound nervous about it. Typically, he should have had a suite just off her own room, as former royal consorts did, but she had neglected making the arrangements, and for some reason, her mother hadn't seen to it either. Now she was stuck without the pretense that they were merely heading the same direction, because he was most definitely heading out of his way.

"We wouldn't want anything to happen to you on the way, now would we?" Toffee replied. He must've been tired, because he had no mean comment to add.

"I appreciate it," she said, before silence stretched between them once again.

The door to her room came into view much too quickly, and the knot of nervousness in Moon's stomach did not have the time to untie itself. She slipped off Toffee's arm to trot up to her door, but simply retreating inside felt cowardly, and the thought of inviting him in was like touching a hot plate--she shied away from it instantly.

But she wanted to leave on a friendly note, so she turned to him and opened her mouth to say something, though she didn't know what. She closed her mouth again when the words wouldn't present themselves. 

"Come here," Toffee said, his voice soft and neutral, and Moon didn't even process it as a demand before she already took a step towards him, and with firm hands on her shoulders, he pulled her even closer.

Apprehension skittered up and down her back, and her hands flew up reflexively, but she thought better of it, and merely placed her palms against his chest, smoothing down his lapels. Moon found herself staring into that single ruby on his cravat pin, the red reflections of the stone tantalizing. This close, she couldn't help notice that Toffee was so much taller than her, and she had the sudden, wild thought that she could shove him if he took any liberties. But the thought was undercut by the knowledge that she would not, that it would be unseemly behavior of a princess, and especially towards her husband.

Toffee's touch was light. His scaled hands were dry and, though not smooth, at least pleasantly textured as they moved from her shoulders, following the line of her neck upwards. She felt his hands as they sank into her hair, destroying it even further. She didn't understand what he was doing until she heard the first, delicate plink of a small bobby pin hitting the marble floor. Then the soft tug in her hair, and the sound again, the metallic notes echoing along the castle hallway almost absurdly loud. He was taking the pins out of her hair, completely unprompted.

Moon rather started believing she had gone insane somewhere between leaving the ballroom, and this moment. Maybe she'd fallen asleep on her feet and was dreaming. Her eyes were still fastened on the ruby at Toffee's throat, and as she watched the play of light on the precious stone, she wondered if it had hypnotized her somehow.

But she stood perfectly still under Toffee's ministrations, and though she made sure to breathe deeply and evenly, she was convinced that nothing could hide the wild beating of her heart from Toffee. She was so close, how could he not hear the hammering in her chest? And then another metallic plink against the marble interrupted that thought, the intrusion of the outside world derailing her train of thought.

Toffee had removed enough bobby pins to unravel the heavy weight of her hair, letting the silver locks cascade down her back, and Moon winced at the ache in her scalp as the tension was released. Her hands curled around his lapels, and her mind--buzzing with the fatigue of staying up all night, and her growing confusion over Toffee--was nothing but a wordless rush of sound. She felt the slow drag of Toffee's claws through her hair, combing it down her back.

Toffee hummed thoughtfully, and Moon was so startled that she looked up into his amber eyes, half-lidded as he studied her.

"An improvement, don't you think?" he asked.

He said it mildly, in that smooth, inflectionless voice of his, but suddenly Moon felt flustered, as if by undoing her hair he had stripped off more than pins. She stepped away from him, and staggered back until her back was against the room of her door. She blindly groped for the door handle.

"Yes, thank you-- Good ni-- morn-- Good--sleep-- I mean, sleep well." Her hand finally, mercifully found the door handle. "Bye," she said, before dashing into the safety of her room and closing it behind her.

She pressed a hand against her mouth in surprise, too shocked by her own rudeness to do more than stand rooted in place and replay the past few minutes in her head. She still felt the ghost touch of his claws through her hair, the tug of every bobby pin removed from it, and she wondered what any of that had been about.

After much too long standing frozen, she cracked the door open to see if he was still there. She hadn't heard footsteps, and she wasn't sure what she would have even done if he'd still been standing there, but all she could see in the hallway were the bobby pins littering the ground, like the shrapnel of fresh battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense... I did mark this 'slow burn'.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Moon emerged from her room sometime around noon. Her head was still aching from her elaborate hairstyle the night before, and her feet were still sore from all the dancing, which meant she had not put much effort into dressing up that day. She'd pulled on a simple day dress, and her most comfortable pair of slippers, and walked through the quiet halls of the castle knowing full well that there would hardly be anyone to see her anyway. Most of the castle denizens, if not also most of the servants, were sleeping off the night's revelry.

Her mother's kitchen was the first place she headed. When Queen Comet was away, Moon would go there to stress bake. It was not for common use, that particular room. Officially it was called 'the Royal Kitchen', but to Moon, even when she was the one making use of it, it was always Mother's kitchen.

The smell of fresh baking wafted down the hallway even before Moon turned a corner and saw the door to the kitchen open. She came up to the doorway to see Queen Comet sitting at a table, cheek propped against her fist as she was slumped over a cup of tea. Last night's wine had obviously caught up with her; she had not even bothered doing up her hair, instead wearing a headwrap and a housegown.

But her eyes brightened when she noticed Moon.

"Oh, my darling, do come in," the Queen said, gesturing for Moon to sit at the table. "How are you? Do you want some tea? The pies are not quite done yet, I'm afraid."

"Mother, I can get my own tea," Moon said, quirking a smile.

"Hush, dear, let me dote," her mother chided, and with surprising energy jumped to her feet, rattling through cabinets for the tea.

Moon couldn't help a small laugh from escaping her. She pulled her feet up on her chair and curled her arms around her knees, content to watch this tableau of domesticity as her mother banged about the kitchen, setting the kettle back on the stove, taking out the milk and honey, preparing the crockery.

It almost made Moon loathe to interrupt, but she'd had certain thoughts niggling at her lately, and they had sprouted into serious questions. She only tried not to think who'd planted the seeds for them in the first place.

"Mother," Moon said eventually, breaking the comfortable silence, "now that we've made peace with the Monsters, have you given thought to how they will be integrated into the kingdom?" 

"Integrated?" Queen Comet repeated, not even turning around as she watched the kettle. Instead she made a dismissive gesture over her shoulder. "Moon, dear, the entire point of peace is that we now needn't give another thought to them."

"Obviously we must," Moon blinked. Surely there had to be a plan. There was more to peace than some lines on a piece of paper, no matter how much flourish you put into the signature. "Why, the Prince-Consort's entourage alone must be found quarters, to say nothing of the other Monster subjects in Mewni."

Queen Comet gave a light laugh at this, like the tinkle of bells. But to Moon's ears, it sounded unintentionally condescending.

"My dear," Queen Comet spoke, as she removed the kettle and approached the table, "you simply must communicate more with your husband. His entourage is not staying."

"...Isn't it?" Moon asked, suddenly uncertain. She hadn't thought to check, only assumed-- "But what of the other Monsters?"

"Moon, darling," Queen Comet spoke, and the smile that usually dimpled her cheeks now smoothed out into a more serious expression, "the Prince-Consort is about our limit on Monsters in Mewni for now."

Moon was momentarily confused into silence, realizing she had been making quite a few assumptions about her mother's intentions, as well. Perhaps Toffee had had a point about paying more attention to Queen Comet's plans, but...

She picked up the cup of tea and drank distractedly, trying to gather her thoughts, but once she recognized the flavor of the tea, her confusion turned into outright bewilderment.

Moon knew the taste, because this was the 'discreet tea' her mother had introduced her to back when she'd first started dating River. The one meant to prevent pregnancy and make the monthly flows less painful. Since she was not at that time of the month, there was little enough reason to drink it unless--

"Mother!" Moon said, lowering the cup from her lips to give Queen Comet a wild-eyed stare. "What's this supposed to be for?"

"Oh, Moon, I know for certain you know what it's for," Queen Comet replied, her face the picture of serenity.

"Well, yes, but--" Moon sputtered for a moment, but she placed the cup down as she composed herself. "First of all, it's not necessary because nothing happened last night--"

"My dear, we all saw the Archduke swan off with you--"

"--because he walked me to my room and then left," Moon continued mulishly, "but even if something had happened, you do realize I must produce an heir for the kingdom eventually!"

"One mustn't rush into such things," Queen Comet said, which was the most infuriatingly generic nugget of wisdom Moon had had to be subjected to lately.

"That is all well and good, but perhaps you might have said that before making your assumptions and pouring out the tea for me unasked!"

Queen Comet sighed just then. It was not an angry gesture, but Moon had to suppress a deep internal flinch at it anyway, because it was Mother's disappointed sigh, and disappointment was always much harder to bear than anger.

"If the tea bothers you that much, dear, I'll just clean it up," the Queen declared, throwing her hands up as though Moon was the unreasonable one.

"The tea isn't the point, Mother," Moon said. "It's only making me question just how dedicated you are to this peace, if you're not willing to give a single inch--"

Queen Comet laughed then, and it wasn't her bell-tinkle laugh this time. It was something sarcastic, the kind of laughter she threw in the face of the most dull-witted and annoying courtiers when they were being ridiculous. Moon had never had it aimed at her before, and she hadn't realized how deeply wounding it would feel to be undercut so by the Queen.

"Your husband has been putting notions in your head already!" Queen Comet remarked, her eyes narrowing. "My, but he works fast."

"My husband told me only that I should be forming opinions by myself," Moon shot back, "seeing as I will be Queen one day."

"No doubt he will be a great help in forming those opinions, too--"

"So far, _you_ have been a great aid in it, so do not undercut your own contributions to shaping my impressions, Mother!"

It was the most vicious thing Moon had ever dared say to her mother, and Queen Comet rolled back on her heels, as though physically blown back by surprise.

Moon had even stunned herself into silence, and her heart galloped in her chest as though she was facing down an enemy-- but no, this was Mother, she was not--

In a feat of extremely good timing, there was a brisk knock at the kitchen door just then.

"Come in," Queen Comet ordered, her eyes not leaving Moon, but her voice sounding strained to Moon's ears.

A soldier walked in, and the sound of heavy armored feet against the kitchen tiles was alarming enough that Queen Comet broke eye contact with Moon and turned around to face the new arrival.

"Yer Majesty, Yer Highness," the soldier greeted quickly through labored breaths, "afraid we got a slight situation developing-- with er, some of the guests. The, um... Monster ones...?" The soldier looked from Queen to Princess, uncertain who would be the one to deal with this.

"Well, Moon, dear," Queen Comet said, all too pleasantly, "it sounds as though your husband's people have already started pulling against their leash. Best tend to them quickly, yes? Chop, chop, darling."

Moon whirled out the door before her mother had even finished speaking.

 

* * *

 

Whatever the situation had developed from, at the moment it consisted of Rasticore casually holding a Mewni soldier in the air by the collar of his tunic with just one hand, while the soldier spat angry curses and attempted to throw punches. Given that Rasticore had an impressive reach, the Mewman was seeing not much success in this endeavor.

"What's going on?" Moon asked as she arrived to the scene.

Rasticore moved his cold, reptilian stare from the soldier to Moon and gave her a deliberate smile with far too many teeth.

"Hey, no biggie," Rasticore shrugged, "just a bit of a disagreement over, you know... logistics."

Moon blinked.

"They, um--" Another Monster spoke up from Rasticore's shadow, but then fell silent again.

"Yes?" Moon looked to this other Monster with all the poise and calm she could muster.

A feathered Monster shuffled out from behind Rasticore, holding a bundle of rags to his chest, and hunching his shoulders defensively.

"They told us we had to leave," the Monster said.

Moon blinked. "...Leave to where?" she asked.

The bird Monster shrugged, and looked up at Rasticore.

"Out on our asses, Princess," Rasticore replied with malevolent cheer. "They were going to evict us."

Moon stiffened at this news, and looked to the gathered Mewman soldiers for confirmation. There were three or four of them clumped together in the hallway, brandishing weapons but apparently not daring enough to go rescue their fellow who was still dangling at the end of Rasticore's firm grip.

The shame-faced way the soldiers were trying to avoid her gaze said it all, and she realized the bundle that the feathered Monster was holding to his chest was likely his luggage, such as it were--or at least as much as the Monster could grab before the soldiers had attempted to remove him. From the looks of it, they encountered more resistance once they moved on to Rasticore.

Down the hall, past Rasticore, Moon could see opened doors from the entire wing of guest rooms, and scared faces peeking out at her.

Conspicuously absent was the Archduke, though perhaps that was for the best. Moon wouldn't have wanted her mother to think he was influencing the decision that she was about to make.

"That was unaccountably rude," Moon said to her soldiers, who didn't seem pleased by the criticism, but did not dare defend themselves either. "You should have consulted me first, I would have had their new rooms ready by now."

"Yes, Your Highn-- what?" The soldiers goggled at her.

Rasticore's own jaw did not quite fall open, though his grip slackened, and the soldier fell out of his hand with a thunk, like a metal kettle hitting the floor. The soldier, now free to pursue vengeance against his temporary captor, instead merely turned towards Moon to gape at her.

"New rooms?" Rasticore said, his gaze growing glassy as though his brain was now getting overclocked trying to process this information.

"Well, obviously, you can't live in the guest rooms forever," Moon barreled on, her voice sounding perfectly reasonable in contrast to the content of her words. But oh, if she said this quickly, they'd all have to simply accept it. "The Archduke's entourage will obviously have permanent residence in the castle, and we do have some perfectly serviceable rooms in the--ah--" She thought quickly to which part of the castle had seen the least use lately, and by the amount of dust she'd seen encrusted there decided it wouldn't be missed. "--The Puce Wing. It does require some dusting first, but how about you and the rest gather your things, and I will get it ready in the meantime, yes? We will move you in today."

"Okay," Rasticore said faintly, 

Moon turned on her heel, making a gesture to dismiss the soldiers before she walked off, and keeping the briskest pace she could without running.

The Puce Wing would need a bit more than dusting, and given that one of her ancestors had used one of the rooms there to store her trophies from hunts, Moon suspected she was going to have to remove some indelicate stuffed specimens that some of the Monsters might recognize as their own ancestors, but what was done was done. The word of a Princess was law, and now was the time to see it through.

Once returned to her room, she found her wand as she had left it on the vanity, and the Book of Spells on her desk.

As she paged through the book furiously, Glossaryk floated over her head, stuffing his face with pudding pie.

"So--" He chewed a bit more, making irritating smacking sounds before continuing, "--I see marriage isn't taking you away from your studies."

"Yes, yes, busy, busy," Moon replied distractedly, and then tapped a finger against the page as she found the spell she sought. "Ah-hah!"

She memorized the lines, and then flipped the book closed just as Glossaryk was licking crumbs off his fingers. There was only an indignant sound in response, muffled by the covers of the book.

When she made her way to the Puce Wing, she discovered that the place did, indeed, need a great deal of help to become livable. But now committed to this course of action, Moon brandished her wand like her greatest weapon against sheet-covered furniture and tacky wallpaper.

Dust melted under the light of her magic, surfaces returning to perfect sheen. Entire rooms, filled with outdated decor and vermin-chewed carpets, were turned to simple, functional bedrooms, and where she encountered antiques and the occasional valuable heirloom, she used her wand to stow it in a pocket dimension for later placement in the castle vaults.

But she walked from one end of the wing to the other, making living quarters and the occasional communal room, all sparse compared to the previous Mewni decadence, but perfectly suited to being decorated and rearranged to the specifications of its intended inhabitants. Mindful that their needs would be different than that of Mewmans, Moon opted for versatility over luxury, and hoped it wouldn't be misconstrued. Still, the beds were comfortable, and so was every cushioned chair and sofa, and she had even cleverly turned one of the chandeliers into a perch for those Monsters capable of flight.

Satisfied with her work, and feeling a bit light-headed from all the magic she'd done, Moon took one last look around the Puce Wing--no longer only puce in color, but done in more shades of brown and maroon.

She returned to the guest wing to fetch the Monsters, and though they had gathered their things as instructed, they still seemed halfway to certain that they would be thrown out. The sight of Moon holding her wand was not inspiring much confidence, at least not judging by the way Rasticore got narrow-eyed and suspicious at the sight of it.

"Well, shall we go then?" Moon asked cheerfully, and gestured for them to follow, displaying more confidence than she truly felt.

She felt like the conductor of the strangest little parade as she led the procession of Monsters across the castle and to the Puce Wing. She supposed it would now be renamed the Monster Wing, given its new usage. She deftly ignored the gaping servants and guards as she passed them, and did not stop until she was at the double doors to the new Monster Wing, throwing them open with as much drama as was appropriate for the situation.

Rasticore was the first to walk in, looking around as though he still expected some trap to spring, but other Monsters shuffled in after him, necks craning and eyes bulging as they looked around the wing, and then started trying doors.

There was a gasp from one of the rooms, and though everyone twitched and Rasticore stalked over to the door, the tiny feathered Monster from before trotted back out to find Moon.

"You mean we can really live here?" he asked.

"For as long as you'd like," Moon promised.

To her surprise, the Monster sprinted towards her, and clamped Moon into a hug before she could even react, and then just as quickly released her, and ran back off to explore the wing.

Moon took her leave so they could acquaint themselves with their new quarters in peace, but she did feel terribly pleased with herself as she closed the double doors behind herself.

 

* * *

 

Though notably absent throughout the entire tense affair, Toffee made himself known again just as Moon was heading back to her room. He peeled out of the shadows in one corridor so he could fall into step with her. He was freshly dressed in dark clothing trimmed with red, simple but obviously clever tailoring, meant to flatter his physique. It made Moon hyper-aware that she'd been stomping around in her slippers all day, but to be fair, she had been rather busy, and her feet were still sore. Where had _he_ been, anyway?

"Did my abilities in conflict resolution prove adequate, then?" Moon sniffed. "I assume you didn't intervene because you wanted to check for yourself."

"Far be it from me to undermine you, Princess," Toffee replied pleasantly, his long neck bent down so his face was more level with hers. This brought his jagged smile far closer to Moon's face, as well, but he was as pleased as the cat that ate the cream, by the looks of him.

Moon made a doubtful hum.

"Of course," Toffee continued, straightening up again so he could casually inspect his claws, "seeing as my people have been set up in proper rooms, keeping your consort in guest quarters would send something of a mixed message."

"Oh, I've got you covered, don't worry," Moon muttered.

She'd reached the door of her quarters by that point, but continued on to the next door over, and pulled it open to reveal what had to be the cramped servants' quarters where attendants might sleep overnight, close in reach of any Princess. When Moon had been very young, her governess had occupied such a room, though that one not quite so dark, and a lot airier.

Toffee gave the room a dubious look before turning to Moon again, raising an eyebrow in question.

She took a deep breath and raised her wand, blasting the contents with a beam of magic that turned the small, dingy room into much larger, much better-appointed chambers.

She'd been picturing something a bit like the reading room he'd occupied in the weeks running up to the wedding, and so this new bedroom had decor that matched it a bit more closely than Moon would have liked. It was clear Toffee saw the resemblance as well, in the shape of the windows, the armchair and desk, the color of the carpeting; he looked entirely too smug for his own well-being as he prowled inside the room, inspecting it more closely.

The canopy bed was large and plush, and more decadent than appropriate for an Archduke, perhaps, but suitable for a consort. Toffee inspected it for a few seconds, made a begrudgingly approving sound in the back of his throat, and then turned to another feature of the room which had caught his eye: another door, which judging by the wall it occupied clearly led to Moon's room.

Toffee turned very slowly to raise his eyebrow at Moon once more.

"It's a traditional feature of any consort's bedchamber," Moon said, feeling her cheeks grow heated. "And don't get too excited, it has a lock."

"Well," Toffee shrugged, a roll of the shoulders that managed to convey his indifference, but seemed mostly designed to show off his biceps, "don't you get too excited either, I expect you to knock."

Moon sputtered, knowing for certain her face was growing red.

A slow smile spread across Toffee's face, and with the length of his snout, there was quite a lot smile to be had. He made a show of opening the door between their room, holding it for her as he invited her to pass through.

"You are insufferable!" Moon declared, as she stormed past him and into her own bedroom.

"Duly noted," Toffee said, and she whirled around to glare at him from across the threshold. "But, since you asked, yes."

"...Yes?" She frowned, confused by this turn in the conversation.

"Yes, I'm impressed with your abilities in conflict resolution," he said. "You should rest, Moon," he continued, the expression on his face growing more subdued, almost melancholy. "You'll need it for the days ahead."

"Oh... oh, yes, I suppose," Moon said faintly, unsure how to react to his shifting moods.

He bowed his head to her, taking his farewell, and closed the door between them.

Still, Moon stood there for a few minutes more, processing what her day had been, and concluded that a few more  hours in bed were perhaps justified.


End file.
